


Bittersweet Sleep

by ibonekoen



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/pseuds/ibonekoen
Summary: Charles gets a late night visitor at the Mansion. (Post X-Men: First Class)





	

Charles is ripped from bittersweet sleep by pain flaring across his spine, and his mouth drops open in a soundless cry as his face contorts. On the very edge of his consciousness, he can feel the presence of another mind close by, but he's too focused on the agony to wonder who. Real or imagined, the pain is stealing his breath, and his mind flashes back to that beach, the strike of a bullet driving itself into his body. His hands curl into fists, gripping soft, silky sheets.

"Charles?" A feminine voice penetrates the reddened white haze of pain, and Charles can hear the concern in her voice. There's a fleeting thought that he knows her, but he can't quite place his finger on her name at the moment; his focus has narrowed to only pain.

It's five minutes or an eternity before the pain stops, but Charles finally exhales, his spasming body calming and sagging back against the bed. He swallows heavily, reeling a little from the intensity, and he's startled to find something pressed to his lips. It takes a moment for it to register that it's a straw, and then he's greedily sucking in the cool, refreshing water.

Once he's had his feel, he turns his head away, coughing a little. "Thank you," he says. He turns back to see his vistor. He's surprised at the sight of the blue-skinned young woman, though he is somewhat relieved to see she's wearing clothes. Her name on his lips is a soft whisper. "Raven."

She smiles and sets the cup in her hand on the small table beside his bed. "Charles," she says simply, her yellow eyes fixing on him. She's seated on the edge of the bed, facing him. "How are you?"

"I could ask you the same question," he says, his voice still quiet as he looks over her. He half-expects to see Erik standing behind her, and his eyes flick away from her face as he glances past her.

His disappointment at seeing no one behind her must be evident on his face because Raven says "He's sorry he can't be here, but he sends his regards."

"He's off recruiting." It isn't a question; were he not confinded to this infernal bed, he'd be doing the same. He frowns a bit, confused, wondering how Erik is sensing the mutants without telep- The answer hits him like a block of ice -- pun intended. "Miss Frost is helping him."

Raven's forehead creases as she gives him an annoyed look. "Charles, you promised never to read my mind. I thought the beach was an exception."

"The beach was an exception, my dear Raven," Charles says, wincing a bit. He doesn't like to be reminded of that day. The fact that he can't feel his legs is reminder enough, thank you very much. "I didn't read your mind. I merely surmised it for myself. We haven't met another telepath, and seeing as how Erik would need to be able to sense the mutants and he has abandoned me-" There's just a touch of bitterness in his voice, but he shakes it off in a rush. "-Emma Frost is his next best option."

Silence falls between them for a few moments, Raven's eyes straying to the wheelchair in the corner of the room. A smile tugs at one corner of her mouth as she sees the silver X emblazoned over the wheel. "Hank's work?" she asks, her attention returning to Charles.

He's managed to push himself up into a seated position, back pressed against the headboard, and he might be sweating a little from the effort, his breath coming out in short huffs. He casts a glance at the chair and chuckles slightly. "It seemed fitting. You did proclaim me Professor X."

"Erik's got a new helmet as well," Raven says. "Redecorated it himself." She snickers a bit. "He's even got a cape."

Charles seems surprised by that, and he can't fight the smile that's got the corners of his mouth curving upward. "A cape?" he says. "I never took him for the theatrical type." He tries to picture Erik in a cape, and suddenly, he can see it in his mind's eye -- the helmet painted scarlet-purple, the dark charcoal gray cape that sweeps down his back. He gets a chill down his back at the imposing figure his friend and lover makes, and all he can see of Erik is his back.

He gives Raven a curious look, knowing the image came from her, and she meets his gaze with a soft smile. "I thought you'd like to see it for yourself," she says with a casual shrug of her shoulder. "It doesn't count as reading my mind if I'm projecting it to you."

A soft chuckle escapes him, and he gives a small nod before he asks the question that's been on his mind since he'd awoken. "How is he?"

The smile on Raven's face fades at the question, and she averts her eyes, clamping down on her thoughts. "He's well," she says after a handful of moments. "He has this determination... He's always been a little intense, but now..." She gives another casual shrug. "You didn't answer my question. How are you?"

Charles takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he considers the question. His head is swirling with different answers -- he's lonely, he's sad, he misses Erik and her more than anything, he's frustrated and a little bit angry because he can't feel his legs, can't make them move at will anymore -- and he doesn't know which to give her first. He doesn't want to trouble her with his problems, and it doesn't take a telepath to know what answer she's hoping for, so he forces a smile onto his face and answers simply. "I'm well."

Her eyes search his face as the silence yawns between them, and she snorts after a few moments, shaking her head. "Liar."

He gives an agitated huff and picks at the blankets covering his useless legs. "What do you want me to say, Raven? Giving voice to my feelings won't change anything," he snaps, the anger rising in him. "I'm as well as I can be, given my current circumstances. The hospital released me with a clean bill of health, aside from the obvious, of course." He throws a heated glare at the chair in the corner, tears springing to his eyes.

He can see Raven wince out of the corner of his eyes, but he keeps his gaze focused on the chair. His eyes narrow, and it's almost as if he thinks that if he can just glare hard enough at the offending metal contraption, it'll magically disappear and he'll be able to walk again.

"He blames himself, you know." The sound of Raven's voice piercing the heavy silence between them startles Charles, and he drags his gaze away from the corner, fixing on her face. "I can hear him at night. He dreams about it."

He wants to ask her how she knows what he dreams about, what she hears, and if it means that she's taken his spot beside Erik in the other man's bed. He recoils at that thought, pushing it away with desperation. He'd rather not know the answer to that. "I don't blame him," he says instead. "No more than I blame Moira. It was an unfortunate accident. It could've happened to anyone."

"But it didn't," Raven protests, frowning. "It happened to you. I'm no fool, Charles. I know how he cares about you."

He gives a sardonic little chuckle to cover the pang in his heart. "That makes it all the more ironic, Raven," he says, a touch of sadness in his voice. "We always hurt the ones we love the most." His smile this time is one hundred perfect forced, and she knows it because it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm tired, Raven."

She doesn't look happy, but she rises from the bed, nodding. "Is there anything you want me to tell him?" she asks.

Charles opens his mouth to speak and then hesitates, a thousand and one things swirling through his mind. Come home, is foremost, but he doesn't want to relay that message through his sister. He'd rather save that for himself; he has a feeling that he hasn't seen the last of Erik. It may take a while, it could be weeks or months or -- heaven forbid -- years before he sees Erik face-to-face but he knows it will happen eventually.

"Tell him..." He trails off, licking dry lips and swallowing past a throat tightened with emotion. His voice is shakier than he'd like to admit when he finally speaks. "Tell him he's never alone and my door will always be open to him."

He smiles as she leans over him and brushes her lips across his cheek, and he tilts his head up, giving her an affectionate kiss. "Take care of yourself, Raven," he says softly.

She gives him a soft smile. "You too, Charles," she says, ruffling his hair before she retreats.

He watches her climb out the window, and continues to gaze out at the night sky long after she's gone. Finally, he slides back under the covers, settling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. There's a faint wisp of a touch that feels like Erik, and Charles closes his eyes, focusing on that sensation. He hopes he isn't imagining that touch, that Erik really has taken off his helmet, and he reaches out, establishing contact long enough to whisper _{I miss you.}_

Then he's falling, spiraling into an unrestful sleep.


End file.
